Summer Road Trip Soundtrack

Nearly 2 weeks ago, as we embarked on our most recent road trip to lovely Pensacola Beach, there was a moment. A moment when my heart was charmed. A moment when I fell further into love with the man who sat beside me. A moment in which I was keenly aware of his sweet love for me. I'll get to that moment in a minute. First the background.

Before our 12-hour road odyssey can even begin, there exists the ritual of the frantic organizing and packing and the loading of the minivan. Let me be clear (do I sound presidently?): the frantic part of this equation is me. I accuse no other parties of being frantic. They are not. It's me. I simply become overwhelmed with the magnitude of what must be accomplished in order for us to leave our house. Mostly the tasks are small, but they just never end. It does me in. Every. Single. Time.

In the midst of my frantic packing chores, I decided that what I needed was some music. Something peppy and energetic and uplifting. So I went to the computer, pulled up Pandora, clicked on my ABBA station (yes, I have an ABBA station), and set the volume on high.

You can dance, You can jive, Having the time of your life....
See that girl, Watch that scene....

I then set about my tasks with renewed vitality, singing and um, jiving about the house. (Which scene promises to be a favorite emotionally scarring memory of my children one day.)

Now back to the moment. The car has been packed, the house is secured, the kids are buckled, the cat has been unceremoniously deposited at the kennel. We're heading down Manchaca (for you non-Austinites, that street is pronounced 'man-chack' - just go with it) and I am sorely missing my 70's disco music. I look at my husband and wistfully say, I wish we could listen to ABBA in the car.

Which is his cue. He slyly leans forward, hits the power button on the CD player, and the opening strains of "Dancing Queen" pour through the speakers.

I love that man. He had burned me a CD while I was in freak mode. The man loves me.

Driving out of Austin has never been so fun. But by the time we hit "Fernando" the kids were pretty much done. I was subjected to pathetic whimpers of How long is this CD? and Are we going to listen to ABBA the whole way? wafting forward from the back of the van. I didn't care. On I sang...

If you change your mind, I'm the first in line, Honey I'm still free, Take a chance on me....

Well, wouldn't you know it, by the end of the trip, as we rolled back through Texas, the following question was posed by my son, the heretofore most vocal opponent of ABBA in the van, Hey, can we listen to some ABBA? The girl chimed in, Yeah, yeah! Mamma Mia! Mamma Mia!

Ah, converts.